So Close
by jones18
Summary: A short fan fiction giving light to the second date Tony and Alex never had. Wire in the Blood is the property of Val McDermid and Coastal Productions, I'm just messing about with it a bit!
1. Chapter 1

The doorbell rang and I wished for her sake, I was anyone but me. Social ease with women or people in general, has never been my strong suit, though it is easier to be me with Alex. She knows the stick of rock I am and seems to be satisfied knowing the stick of rock is me, through and through. No pretense between us to muddy the waters.

She was ringing my flat because I invited her, at her urging, on another date. Why she would see sense in suggesting another fell beyond me. The first had been a blur of ineptitude and apologies on my part for not realizing _she_ had asked _me_ to dinner.

She was hurt and I had been the cause. Yet she offered another chance to put things right, so I snatched the opportunity like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man. Because that's what it was. And I'll be damned if I'll let myself drown when she is willing to save me.

I left the kitchen to answer the door and found her standing on the other side holding up a bottle of pinot noir and a single red rose.

"A bit confused. Wasn't sure of the etiquette involved in meeting a man at his flat for a stay-in date." She released the smile that held me helpless each time it washed over me.

Alex stared from the other side of the door, no doubt hoping I would regain my manners and let her inside.

"I may not know all the etiquette involved in this particular form of date night, but I'm fairly certain tradition allows for the guest to enter the flat." Alex said.

I stepped aside and waved her in. "Yes, of course, come through. Sorry…let me take your coat." She walked past, leaving a faint trail of the perfume I always meant to ask about.

She placed the gifts on my desk in the corner of the room and began unbuttoning her coat. "You've tidied up."

Tidied was a nice way of saying I finally cleaned up a flat in the throes of chaos. It wasn't an unsanitary chaos, but a chaotic mess none the less. "Yes, couldn't have you to dinner with it looking like a bomb site could I. Should have done it months ago. I suppose I didn't have a reason to until now." The mountainous stacks of books and files which usually littered my desk, the floor beside it, as well as the floor and table in front of the sofa, were sorted and placed in drawers and on shelves where space was available. Never was one for sorting or throwing out.

"And the scented candles and music, also for my benefit?" She asked.

"Yes again." I stood there searching for something more to say when I remembered yesterday's fiasco at the local Tesco. "Are you aware there are hundreds of different candle scents available? Fifteen variations on vanilla alone."

"Really Tony, hundreds?" She shot me a look of sarcastic disbelief.

I acquiesced and said, "Well, maybe not hundreds, but even twenty is more than enough to send a grown man running from the shop screaming."

She laughed at the sentiment and looked around again. "It is lovely. Thank you for going to the trouble to make things so nice." Alex slipped off the coat and handed it to me. "Something smells wonderful. Is it Italian?"

"I made lasagna." I called back to her on my way to lay the coat on the bed. "I've set it on the counter to rest while the garlic bread bakes and I toss the salad." I felt eager to impress Alex with my recently acquired cooking skills. I say recently acquired because only as of late did I arrive at the conclusion I needed to learn to cook for myself, or face perishing in the arctic expanse of the frozen food aisles.

"Italian's my favorite." I heard her answer back. "Has been since I toured Italy on holiday when I was a youth."

_I knew that_. I smiled to myself, thankful I paid attention when she mentioned the trip abroad. Mentally I made a note to tot one up for the socially challenged; one of their own finally got something right.

I came back down the hall and began to offer her a glass of wine. I noticed then for the first time how beautiful she looked in the glow of the candlelit room.

"Tony, you're staring." She self consciously adjusted the neckline of the dress and then awkwardly clasp her hands in front of and then behind her.

I _was _staring, but I couldn't help it. The dress she wore was absolutely striking. A midnight blue, it hung just barely looser than form fitting. The shoulders of the three quarter length lace sleeves rode just at the tips of her shoulders, as if attached at the impossible angle by something unseen, enhancing the low, open scoop of the neckline.

"You look stunning." The words breathlessly fell from my mouth. I felt like a school boy, fawning over the pretty new teacher.

"Thank you. It's a little more revealing than I'm used to, but I really love the color and the way it hangs." She ran her hands down the sides of the dress, and nodded toward me. "You look very handsome. Is the dress shirt new? I don't think I've ever seen you wear green before."

The shirt was new. I bought it specifically because I didn't have anything green and I knew she would recognize it as being new to my wardrobe. I was desperately trying to impress her.

"Green suits you; it brings out the blue of your eyes." She stepped closer and took hold of my forearm. "It was very sweet of you to make a fuss over the dress, thank you."

"Thank you for wearing it." I cringed when I realized what I'd said. "Sorry, I didn't mean… I'm not saying…I don't know what I'm saying." I stopped and took a deep breath. "I can imagine how that must have sounded to you."

She laughed again. "It's alright. I chose to wear something I hoped you would find attractive. It would be silly to take offense because you did." She took the bottle of wine from the corner of the desk, and placed it in my hands. "So…what can I do to help?"

Regaining my composure, I followed her to the kitchen. "Things are well in hand, but if you'd like, you could set the table while I prepare the salad."

I took the New Zealand pinot to the kitchen counter and opened it. "I heard somewhere that the Palliser Estate is carving quite a name for itself with sauvignons as well."

"I wouldn't know. I asked the clerk for something good, as well as something to fit within a police officer's budget and he recommended it."Alex did a half spin in the middle of the kitchen floor and asked, "Where do you keep your plates? Oh, and the flatware?"

"You'll find what you need there." I pointed to the cabinet above the cooker and the drawer beside it. "But don't go asking for cloth napkins, because I don't have any. Paper napkins will have to do."

She took salad and dinner plates from the upper cabinet shelf and opened the drawer to remove two sets of eating utensils. "I can't believe that in the three years we've known each other I've only been to your flat a hand full of times and only then for a few minutes while you searched for some book or file you couldn't live without."

"You were here longer than a few minutes when Jonathan visited. You even agreed to stay for dinner, but you left rather abruptly. Why?" I asked.

I could hear her hesitate. "Because the last thing I wanted to do that night was cause a row between the two of you. She carried the plates to the table and began laying out the table settings so they would face each other. She arranged the flatware so the forks were to the left of the plate and the butter knives to the right. "You don't really want to talk about this now, do you?" She reached for the stack of napkins at the center of the table, removed two, folded them into something resembling a triangle and placed them under the forks.

"He must have said something quite obnoxious to cause you to leave like that. Are you going to tell me what was said?" I finished opening the wine and handed Alex a glass. I watched her intently, trying to make sense of the words she didn't say.

She took the drink, touched the rim of the glass to mine, took a healthy sip and said, "Jonathan said somethings that bristled me the wrong way, that's all. I was probably being overly sensitive. Let's not make more of it than it was." Her eyes drifted, settling on something at the other side of the kitchen.

"You forget, I can tell when you're holding something back from me. There's no need to protect me, I'm a big boy. I don't bruise as easily as you seem to think."

"Tony, please. Nothing good can come from this conversation. I'd rather not have it."

She obviously didn't want to relive the encounter, but my curiosity had gotten the best of me and I had to know. "Would it make it easier if I told you what I suspect happened?" She didn't answer, so I took it as a veiled yes. "Alright then, I suspect he said something insufferable. Possibly something disparaging about who we are together, and rather than call him on it, you walked away. I also suspect he went to your office at some point, uninvited, saying I was delusional or something equally alarming. That I read more into our relationship than is actually there, or that I have an unhealthy attachment to you, or to our work, or some such thing. And I'm sure somewhere in there he gave you his professional opinion about the level of danger I present to you. This got you thinking there might be something to what he said. After all, he is an acclaimed psychologist, which is the reason you began making excuses for why we couldn't work at your house any longer. Am I close?"

"Uncannily." She set down the glass and started fidgeting with the table settings. "How did you…"

"…know that he'd do and say those sorts of things? It was an educated guess. Unfortunately, the education is firsthand. He does those types of things to people when he finds life is better for them than it is for him, or when he thinks someone is receiving more attention than he believes they deserve. In this case, he was jealous of our relationship because his was crumbling round his ears." I checked on the bread and settled into making the salad. When I glanced back to Alex, I found her standing beside the table looking as if she didn't know what to say next. "No worries, Alex. No harm done. I'm a bit of a wild card to you, I know, but I do have a relatively good grasp on reality, as well as our relationship, and I would never do anything to harm you or Ben."

"I know you wouldn't. And I'm not offering this as an excuse for my behavior, but the prospect of a promotion, Ben and the possible move, left me reeling and I let the man get under my skin. I'm sorry if I hurt you by stepping back the way I did." She took the lasagna from the counter and brought it to the table.

"I meant it. No harm done." The timer for the bread went off right about the time I finished with the salad. I took the two to the table and sat down across from her.

"Thank you." She shook out the paper napkin before placing it on her lap.

"Thank you for what?" I collected the small plates and began serving up the salad.

"For being the forgiving type. And I hated it, you know."

"Hated what?" I'd lost the thread.

"Separating myself from you."

I handed back her plate and smiled. "I'm glad, I hated it too."


	2. Chapter 2

Supper went well. The food was nearly perfect, the company - enchanting. I don't know why I worried it would be anything less. It's not as if Alex and I have never shared each other's company or eaten together before now. We just haven't done so with the expectations of a date looming over us.

Eventually we pulled ourselves away from the kitchen table, while I brought another bottle of wine and our glasses to the coffee table in the sitting room. I sat down on the sofa and watched as she looked through my anemic music collection. She sorted through the fifteen or so discs it comprised, picked up one in particular and turned it over.

"You surprise me, Dr. Hill. I didn't peg you as someone who would enjoy listening to music, and I would never guessed you were a Nat King Cole fan. Something more to add to the list of things I don't know about you." She waved the case in my direction. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all. Please, feel free to play whatever you'd like." I didn't remember purchasing the CD. It was more likely a colleague gifted it to me at one of the faculty Christmas parties as a joke. I gained the majority of my feeble collection this way. "I didn't have you pegged for someone who enjoyed the old, romantic melodies." I said.

She shrugged as if surprised herself by her selection. "I don't really, but this particular recording my father wore the grooves off of when I was growing up." She raised the volume slightly and sat down on the other side of the sofa.

"So the fondness is sentimental, having to do with your father."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

I began to add to the wine remaining in her glass, when she stopped me.

"Tony, thanks, but I've had enough for the night. I still have to drive home."

"You're not leaving now are you? We haven't really started to enjoy the evening." Immediately I began scanning my memories of supper for something I said or done which would cause her to want to leave so early.

"Relax; I'm having a wonderful time. I just want to be of good mind when I get behind the wheel to leave for the night."

She dropped her shoes to the floor and drew her feet up under her. I watched as she carefully adjusted the skirt of the dress. "What is it?" She asked when she caught me staring for a second time.

I shook my head and said "Nothing." For a reason I couldn't explain, it heartened me to know she felt comfortable enough in my home to be barefooted.

Alex didn't press the awkwardness and casually asked, "Did you have something planned for this portion of the evening?" Her voice held a hint of mischief in it.

Earlier in the day I rented a stack of movies for this very point in the evening, but now that Alex was actually here, I wasn't really in the mood for anything but the pleasure of her company. "I thought we could talk, if you'd like."

"I thought you said you didn't do the talking thing."

I did recall saying something to that effect to her earlier in our relationship. "I don't really, but for you I'll make the effort."

"Well, I'm flattered." She said.

"As well you should be." I cracked a grin while I refilled my empty glass, returning the bottle to the coffee table. "Can I get you anything? Water or coffee?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you. But I am curious to know why you chose your flat as the place for our second attempt at a date."

"Truthfully?"

"_Should_ there be any other way between us?" She looked at me dead on and raised the eyebrow she habitually raised when she looked for more than verbal responses.

"No, there shouldn't be." I watched her face brighten with my answer. "Truthfully… I felt I would be more at ease with the evening and less likely to do or say something unforgivable if we were someplace quiet and familiar." I took a sip from my glass and hovered over its rim. "If truth were to continue to be told, I would have to say I had an ulterior motive as well for making the choice to stay in."

"And what would that motive be?" Her words hung open ended in the air.

"I… I didn't want to share you." The look on her face made it clear she wasn't expecting the answer she received. I made an attempt to explain. "If we decided to go out and you wore that dress or something as striking, I would have been sharing you with the eyes of every man in the restaurant._ I_ want to be the only man to look at you that way tonight."

"I don't know what to say."

She blushed, something I never saw her do before.

"I wasn't expecting you to say something so sweet or romantic."

I was a bit surprised myself. Romance is something I have never done particularly well. Yes, I could manage the obligatory bunch of flowers every man brings to the first date, but anything beyond that, the unexpected romantic gestures or intimate speak, I could never do properly. Though it appeared tonight I managed the intimate speak with relative ease. Why was that? "So-why did you decide we needed to eat together in a dating context, when we eat together fairly regularly already?"

The glow ebbed away from her face, replaced by what appeared to be hurt. "I thought the reason would be obvious to you." She began playing with the hem of her dress, pulling it back and forth through her fingers.

I was at a loss. Clearly I read something wrong somewhere, but I didn't know where and I had absolutely no idea how to go about fixing it.

"For God's sake Tony, you were nearly killed- twice. Didn't that make you think differently about your life, about the people in it? Because those events changed everything for me."

"Of course things changed, Alex. Why do you think I fought so hard…?" I stopped.

"Why you fought so hard to do what?" Her eyes questioned mine.

I was about to step off the ledge into the darkened abyss of confession and the thought frightened me more than any of the psychopaths whose heads I've been handed the unfortunate task of entering. At least there the ground was familiar to me. The ground before me now was fraught with unseen missteps and rejection. But I wanted this. I wanted her. So, I stepped off. "Why I fought so hard to come back to you." My heart, with all its various bits and pieces, was there for Alex to do with what she wished.

Her face softened as she gingerly picked up the bits I'd scattered before her. "And after all we've been through together; you're still content to just remain friends?"

"It has nothing to do with being content and everything to do with fear. If I somehow ruined things by acting on something that wasn't there, nothing would be the same between us again. Having you in my life as a colleague and friend is far better than not having you in my life at all. I wasn't willing to risk that relationship."

Her entire face frowned. "Your assumption doesn't offer much room for my forgiving the misstep, if it turned out to be a misstep."

"You're right." My heart began to race once I took in the nuance of her response. "I'm sorry for making such an assumption."

"Apology accepted." She spoke again without looking up from her hands. Candidly she asked, "Tony, what _do_ we have together? We work together, we eat together, and you come to me for help and understanding. What is that?"

"It's what I thought you wanted from me as your friend." More pointedly, it was what I needed from her. Sharing those things made my life more bearable, more normal. They somehow made me more human and less the pretender I felt myself to be.

"And what do you want?" She looked back up at me and paused. "Do you allow yourself to want?" She stroked the tips of my fingers with hers so lightly that I almost didn't feel it, and then she retreated across the demarcation set by the sofa cushion.

I knew what I yearned for, what I dreamt about every night since she breathed life back into me. Yes, I wanted. I just never allowed myself to hope the two of us could ever be. I fell silent for a moment, until I found the nerve to tell her what I truly desired. "I want you, Alex… I want to be with you."


	3. Chapter 3

There was a moment of awkward silence after my declaration, and then she said softly, tenderly, "Dance with me, please." She stood and held out her hand for mine.

"I don't really dance. I never found time for that sort of thing." I said to her, suddenly struck by nerves. "I've never seen the need."

She took the glass from my hand, placed it on the table and then pulled me from the sofa to my feet. "Well, Dr. Hill, it's probably time you learned. I'll teach you everything you'll need to know."

She stood very close to me and placed my right hand on the small of her back.

"We can't move together if there's space between us, so don't be afraid to hold me tightly to you, you won't hurt me."

She bridged the distance by pulling my hips closer to hers.

"I don't know the first thing about formal dance. I'm going to disappoint." The heat of her skin beneath the dress warmed the palm of my hand, which in turn warmed me. The sensation was making it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything but where my hand lay and how I could feel the slight curve where her back met her buttocks.

"Don't worry. I'll show you a very simple step. Trust me, you won't disappoint."

She pulled me to her again and ran her left hand across the top of my right shoulder, to the back of my neck. Without hesitation, my empty hand took hers when she reached for it.

"Your right hand guides the dance by holding me against you so I can feel the direction you're body is moving. It's basically a matter of you leading and my following."

A creeping panic gripped me. "I can't lead. I don't know the steps."

"There aren't any steps to know." She said soothingly. "We're going to move together in a small circle. You'll take a step to the left, then rock a little back to your right, repeating those two steps until the song ends. I'll follow in unison."

She spread my feet apart with her foot and then repositioned herself. "Take a deep breath and relax. This isn't nearly as difficult as you think. You might even find you enjoy it once you've loosened up a bit."

I couldn't see how something like dancing could ever become something I enjoyed. "That's all there is to it then?" It couldn't be that simple.

"That's really all there is to it."

She squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"Now, close your eyes and when the music begins again, listen for the beat. When you're ready, move to your left and I'll follow." She instructed.

The music started and I found what I thought was the beat. When I shifted, she followed, leaning further into my body when she did.

"That's it, but don't think about it. Let the music move you as we move together."

She made it difficult to think about the dance, with her hips pressed so tightly against mine. But she was right, when I let the music have its way with me, it became quite easy to move with her and stay in time. "You're a very good teacher." I said, while trying to appear as though I weren't focusing on the movement of my feet.

"Thank you." She said softly. And there it was again, a flash of that captivating smile.

She rested her cheek on mine, offering another distraction. As if the placement of my hand and the movement of my feet weren't enough.

"The song is 'Unforgettable', in case you were wondering." She let go of the hand she held and wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

My empty hand gradually travelled down her side to her waist, where it joined the other hand at the small of her back. She felt lovely, filled in all of the right places.

"I remember my father dancing my mother around the sitting room to this song." She sighed wistfully.

"It sounds as though he was quite the romantic, your father." Her cheek felt silky against mine and her hair smelled of eucalyptus with a hint of sweet mint and flora I couldn't identify. How many late nights did I feign interest in a case, when what I really wanted was to bury my face in her hair and the seductive curve of her neck?

She nuzzled my ear and said, "He could be, when he wanted."

"Did you choose the disc because of its romantic overtones?" I could have kicked myself. _Overtones? Really? You stupid, unromantic git. Don't spoil the moment by blathering._

She gave a quiet laugh. "Would it be bad if I chose the song for its romantic overtones?"

"No." I could scarcely get the word out. Speech failed me as her want united with my own.

I heard her breathe me in, before she began lightly kissing my neck. "I love the way you always smell clean." She inhaled again, unhurried and then whispered. "Lovely, like lemon soap."

Her voice was gentle and loving. Having her so near, our bodies touching this way, I couldn't help but become more and more aroused with every kiss of her lips and brush of her body. Did she know I hadn't been touched like this for more years than I cared to count? Or that I wanted nothing more in this world than to lie with her, to be the man in her life. If this was what it felt like to be truly loved by another, I don't know how I ever thought I could live without it. I fooled myself into thinking what I was doing all these years was living. Clearly I haven't lived at all, I've merely existed.

The caress of her mouth drifted across my jaw, my chin and down the other side of my neck to my chest. I felt my breath catch when she unbuttoned my shirt and slid her hand beneath it. Her touch was intoxicating, made more so by the knowledge that it was love driving her passion, not animal need, as it was for the few women I bed before I met her.

"Alex, you understand if we give in to this, there's no turning back." I needed to know she thought this through. That she realized how much we stood to lose as well as gain if we followed through with this.

"I don't plan on turning back. Turning back implies regret. I don't entertain regrets. Now, shhh, luv, I can't kiss you properly if you're talking."

I stood silent and fell into the bliss of her touch. She teased with several soft, chaste kisses to my lower lip. But the next—the next were deep and passionate and longing filled. Kissing her, each mouth exploring the other, somehow didn't seem sufficient. I couldn't get enough of her. If I could have crawled inside of her I still would not have felt I was near enough. The scope of my need frightened me. I pulled away and stepped back.

"What is it?" Reaching for my hands, she seemed to be scrambling for words. "I haven't gotten this wrong… have I? This…this is what you want…what we want, isn't it?"

"Alex, what if the work I've done with these people, the heads I've banged around in all these years, what if it's tainted my view of what's normal behaviour with a woman."

She framed my face with her hands and looked deep into me. "Tony, do you think I would be standing here, offering myself to you if I thought there was any chance that could be true. You're behaviors may be a little difficult to figure out at times, but you're no sexual deviant."

"How can you be so sure?" I wanted badly to believe her. Not just for my own sake, but for hers. "How do you know with such certainty, when I don't?"

"I know you. You think I can't possibly know you because you hide from me, but I do know you. The real you. The damaged, unloved and needy Tony Hill, who tries to give to others what he was never given."

"How do you know that's me, the real me?"

"Because the man I've seen beneath is truly a kind, loving, and decent man even when he's at his worst. If you weren't truly these things, the man hiding from me would have shown me otherwise. I wouldn't fall in love with someone who was any less than that."

She stepped into me and laid her head on my chest. "Tony, I'm not frightened and you shouldn't be either. Whatever comes, we can work our way through it. That's what love is."

She began kissing me again, her hands wandered over my body, feeling for a place to land.

"Please, let me love you. Let yourself love me."

Could I let myself love her as she asked? It felt so natural to want her, to need her, to love her. I felt so human and acceptable when I was with her. How could I not let myself love her and she me? I couldn't.

I slipped the sleeves of her dress off the tips of her shoulders. The sensation of her bare skin beneath my fingers and her mouth on mine was driving me crazy. When she slowed, I caressed the supple skin of her chest with my lips. She sighed as my mouth wandered toward the lowered neckline of the dress. There I caught the scent of her perfume. That exquisite perfume. Warm, sensuous and familiar it fanned the flames of what I'd been stifling these past months.

"Alex, I want you… I need to be with you." It felt as though I needed her intimacy to live. Without it I believed I would almost certainly die of longing. I began to move our bodies toward the sofa, when she stopped me.

"No, Tony. Your bed, please. When I dream of us together, we're in your bed."

When I envisioned our first time, it was always in her bed. Subconsciously I must have thought she would prefer it that way. I now realized the reason she dreamt of my bed was because of Ben. "Yes, of course." I took hold of her hand and led her down the hall. She followed behind me, an arm around my waist, her body warm against my back. We entered my bedroom a mass of limbs and anticipation. She let go of my waist when I began picking up the clothing I stripped off before showering. "Sorry, I hadn't thought about the possibility…well, I didn't know the evening would lead to sex." I leaned over the bed to rearrange the pillows and straighten the duvet, when Alex playfully shoved me onto my side and then to my back.

"You mean making love? There is a difference you know."

She leaned over me, making quick work of the shirt she began unbuttoning while we danced earlier.

"You do know the difference, don't you?"

"Yes, I know the difference." In my mind I knew the difference. I had a feeling by the end of the night my heart would know as well.

Her hands left a warm trail as they lazily made their journey from my chest to my stomach. I shivered with pleasure the closer they came to my waist. This very simple act of touching unexpectedly brought me to full arousal. "It's been a very long time, Alex." I explained, certain she could feel my need pressing against her stomach. "I'm afraid the train may leave the station before we're ready to board if you keep this up." She started in on releasing my belt when I gently took hold of her hands. "What I'm trying to say is, I want this to be special for both of us." I rolled over on top of her and brushed away the hair that had fallen across her face. I kissed her eyes, and then her neck, making my way back down her chest. "If I let you have control of things, I'll be ready before you, and that won't do. Let me drive for a bit, yes?" Her dress was the only thing between me and the soft olive skin of the rest of her body. I raised her up to unzip the dress and heard an unfamiliar sound coming from somewhere on the bed. "What's that noise?"

"What noise? I don't hear anything." She was struggling to help me with the zipper she was partially lying on.

"It's coming from somewhere on the bed." I scanned the duvet and discovered Alex's coat at the foot of the bed. "It's your mobile." I looked at her expecting to receive some hint as to what she wanted me to do, hoping she wouldn't want to answer it.

She listened for a second and flopped back onto the bed. "Damn it, it's Paula. I told her not to call me unless the McKinnon case broke open. Something must have happened."

"How do you know it's Paula?" I hoped it was a wrong number.

"It's her ring."

She pulled me closer and ran her hand down my back, yanking the shirttails from out of my trousers.

"I'm not going to answer it. They can bloody well get along without me for a few more hours."

Her other hand began working the shirt off my shoulders.

"Now, I believe we were in the middle of taking the other's clothes off before we were so rudely interrupted."

Before I could think of a sexy comeback, her phone made another noise, one distinctly different from the first."She just sent you a text, didn't she?"

"It sounds as though she did." Alex grudgingly worked her way out from under me and rummaged around in the pockets of her coat until she found the offending object. She said nothing while she read the text, slumping onto the edge of the bed when she finished.

"It's bad isn't it?" I turned onto my side and propped my head on my hand. "Somethings happened to one of the team."

"No, the team is fine. She says there's been a toddler boy abducted on our patch. They've issued an Amber Alert and they're calling my team in to help Gavin's night team handle the search. She wants to know if she should call you."

"Of course she should call me. Another mind to help think things through could help find the boy before time runs out." I crawled to the foot of the bed and began slowly kissing one of the shoulders exposed by the opened zipper.

She ran her hand through my hair and leaned her head against mine."This is never going to happen, is it Tony?"

I zipped up the back of her dress and brushed my cheek over the nape of her neck, breathing in one last inhalation of her perfume before the outside world stole the rest of the night from us. "Yes, it will. Sadly though, it won't be tonight."

She stood when I did and buttoned my shirt while I tucked its tails back into my trousers. In silence she took her coat from the bed and I led her back to the sitting room to get her shoes. She slipped them on as I helped her into her coat. She opened the front door and then tenderly kissed my cheek.

"This is our life isn't it, Tony? It's what we were put here to do, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is." I put on the jacket hanging from the back of the desk chair and took my keys from the table beside the door.

"I'm sorry for that." She said regretfully.

"I am too."


End file.
